I'd Take You, But You're Not Mine
by SimplexityJane
Summary: Stiles was loud, and a little scary if you got in the way of his flailing arms, but Erica liked him all the same. One-sided Erica/Stiles, mentions of Derek/Stiles and Stiles/Lydia.


**Written in response to tonight's episode, which makes me want to bash my head in while I squeal in joy. One-sided Erica/Stiles, implied Derek/Stiles and Stiles/Lydia. Unbetaed and it's almost 2 am here, so if I made errors please tell me.**

**As always I am but a poor writer.**

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Stiles was loud, and a little scary if you got in the way of his flailing arms, but Erica liked him all the same. Even though he was a geek and so smart Lydia Martin sometimes looked at him strangely people seemed to like him. Not the sort of liking where you sat together and ate lunch and gossiped, because Stiles was going through a period where that sort of thing made him yell that the cliquish attitude of high school ruined youth. Class clown, goof off, he was good at that. But when he wasn't joking or making someone laugh Erica would catch him staring off into space, like he was remembering something terrible.

It was seventh grade. She remembered because her dad said how tragic it was, that lovely woman Mary had died. Such a sad story, he'd say. Stiles would be getting money when he was eighteen too.

("It doesn't seem fair," Stiles said. She didn't even look at him to know what he really meant.)

He'd been the bad guy that next year. Starting fights (winning fights), smoking behind the school, screwing with their teachers and screwing his grades. Then Scott McCall had done something and Stiles was himself again, and everyone forgot about that year. Erica didn't, because when no one watches you it's funny how much you can see.

When they were freshmen, however, was when she realized she was actually crushing on him. It was a day after the Incident (and now there were pictures, a video, she could watch herself lose control and piss herself like she was a baby) and no one would talk to her. They laughed at her instead.

Not Stiles. He sat at her table and McCall smiled at her, even though they didn't talk, and he passed her peanut butter cookies. He glared at everyone who came near her, too, and Erica was certain that she'd fallen for him.

(She wasn't surprised Scott didn't understand. Stiles though, that was different. The sheer rage, the way she'd wanted him to notice her just once because now she was as beautiful as Lydia, even better, that had surprised her. She threw him in the garbage because of that. She didn't think about it until Derek was yelling that she could have hurt him and that just because she didn't feel pretty it didn't mean she could blame the world.)

The saddest thing, she thought, was that he didn't see her beyond Erica, the girl he comforted because she had a seizure in class. Because Erica wore gray and Erica didn't talk in class because she thought everyone would call her stupid, even though she was pretty smart actually. Not Lydia Martin smart, but intelligent. She studied and got good grades.

(When she came into the school she heard some of them whisper that word, like her mother had called Scott's mother when she left her husband even though he was the one cheating. She decided to screw them, she was beautiful, she was reclaiming her sexuality. It wasn't something to be ashamed of that she was alluring, that now even girls wanted her. The only thing she was ashamed of was that she actually told Stiles like the pathetic little girl she was.

"Hey," Stiles said later, still sitting beside her and watching her like she could seize at any moment. She could hear Derek in the background, her heart aching because she knew, god she knew. Stiles couldn't be Derek's or hers because he was Lydia's, and Erica couldn't be Derek's because he belonged to Stiles as much as she did, now.

"Hey," she said, and her voice was still rough. She could remember the seizure, how much she wanted to destroy the kanima, but knowing that it was being controlled was a different story. Jackson Whittemore had never known his parents, even if they weren't good people. She didn't really know, to be honest. "You don't have to say anything," she added. "I'm used to rejection." She smiled and patted him on the thigh.

"I didn't know," he said, but it wasn't said like an excuse. "You know, if you hadn't bashed me over the head this would probably have a better outcome." It was a weak joke but she laughed anyway. Anything to break this awful tension, Derek waiting in the background as she renounced her claim.

"I get it," she said. Then, smirking, raised an eyebrow. "By the way, you are." He looked so confused. "Attractive to gay guys. A little twinky, but cute virgin works on you."

He laughed out loud.

"Friends, maybe?" she asked. "I swear I'll still be Catwoman."

"I'd like that." He smiled, warm and genuine, and maybe the ache would go away. Derek managed it. If he could do something she could too.)


End file.
